Poem 17 from THE PEOPLES PRISON AS SHE GOES And after (Harold) Budd, Babs, a different human beauty, One made of strength and survival and of course The feted breasts of her youth. But before that, Her birth in a poor part of London, ravaged by war And the absence of a Dad she adored, her lost truth. From the blitz came the glitz of post war showbusiness, Tawdry perhaps but entrancing to this bright city bird Who flew through dim rooms, sparking said dark With her laughter; a never sorry near Dolly, generous With a handful and a pleasing curve none could spurn. Her talent carried her, as a singer and actress, from Soho To Stratford and back again to the Strand. By way Of Pinewood and Cheam, Camber Sands, Eastbourne, Morecambe, a Gracie Fields for the Sixties who died Fighting a war she’d not planned. And yet she lived That former London life at full thrust, as a friend To the Krays, spliced to Ronnie. Wh...
Doug Dunn The last time I studied history was 50 years ago. My teacher seemed to encouraged seemed my history class learn dates and important facts by heart. I remember listening to him read the French Revolution textbook while underlining the important bits. After two years I learned enough of European history to pass the exam. After school the only other history class I attended was at university where the history of science was part of my Astrophysics course. That was more of an inquiry than parrot learning and more interactive. After my school and university I had no more history education in that subject. I decided history was something not very relevant to my job as an IT trainer and was not something I enjoyed talking talk about with my friends and family. I still remember a few names of famous writers such as Voltaire, 1694-1778, and that he contributed to the French Revolution through being an outspoken advocate of civil liberties. But I had no sense of who he was ...
‘This is My Day’ This is my day, these are my choices These are my actions and my changing voices. Many paths lay ahead and many paths I leave behind, Which way will I go, which way will I find? And you ask me to decide, You ask me to choose one way. But I can’t follow a single path, I am happy to stray. I don’t mean to get lost and I don’t mean to lose sight, I just mean that I’ll wander through the day and the night. And when I say wander I mean that I’ll venture, I mean that I’ll take chances and not live by a censor. For I am confident that opportunities will lead me to great things, I am open to life’s challenges and all that life brings. My heart is wide open to embrace and to share, And my mind is as hungry to learn and to dare.’ by Rachel Mathews-McKay, Dublin, Ireland Biography: Rachel Mathews-Mckay – mixed race of Irish, Jamaican, Bermudian and Canadian heritage but born in Bradford, West Yorkshire. She has been settled in Dublin, Ireland for the past 21 years where, sin...
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